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檐下的花儿静静开,夜风似影久等在门外,残月独挂在窗台,将回忆映白。他打开一张被磨旧的日历纸,上面用鲜红的笔标记的日期将近了。秋日的风没有冬天那么冷冽,也褪去了夏日的燥热,它安静地酝酿着一股力量,让月光下的少年不禁牵动了嘴角。天微微亮,一丝困意突然袭上眉头。整整一夜,他睁着眼睛看夜色沉寂,看清晨的曙光征服黑夜。昨晚爷爷临睡前对他说:“明天是中秋节了,你妈妈想你啊,说什么也要回来。你爸爸觉得来回车票
Under the eaves of the flowers quietly open, the night wind like a shadow for a long time at the door, the moon hanging alone in the windowsill, will recall Yingbai. He opened an old, dated calendar paper with the date marked with a bright red pen near him. Autumn wind is not as cold as the winter, but also fade the summer heat, it quietly brewing a force, so that the juvenile moonlight can not help but affect the mouth. Days slightly bright, a trace of sleepy suddenly hit the brow. Throughout the night, he watched the night quiet with his eyes open, watching the dawn of the morning conquer the night. Grandpa last night before going to sleep, said to him: ”Tomorrow is the Mid-Autumn Festival, your mother miss you, say what to come back. Your father think round-trip ticket